This sink sticks to the bumper and the stomach
I went to Angie’s Oct. 14 to “clean the sink.” I had never done this before, so when my friend Rachel Massengale, a freshman majoring in history, asked if I wanted to come with her and a big group of people to clean sinks, the first thought that came to my mind was, “Sure. Are we going to massage elderly people’s feet afterward?”
Rest assured, cleaning the sink at Angie’s actually means eating a sink full of ice cream. Those who finish a sink, get a bumper sticker and a stomach ache. Those who do not finish it just get a stomach ache.
When we went to clean the sink, our group was big enough that there were three to four people on each sink. The sink I was occupying had Roxana Revilla, art major, Diana Baldwin, animal dairy vet science major, Kim Baker, animal science major, and, of course, myself — all freshmen — attacking the whipped cream-covered fantasy of vanilla ice cream, bananas and blueberries.
To my surprise, out of the group of 17 people, we finished first and under 10 minutes. None of us felt particularly full, and we let Roxana keep the bumper sticker.
This led me to think that cleaning the sink really wasn’t that hard of a task at all. I figured I could probably finish the sink all by myself. So when my parents came to visit me Oct. 20, I mentioned cleaning the sink to them. Eventually, I convinced them to do it with me, so I invited Roxana to once again come with me — I didn’t want to try it solo just yet.
When the waitresses brought out our sinks — my three siblings were on one, while Roxana and I were one the other — my siblings instantly broke into a cacophony of astonishment.
I warned them this was not a contest between the two sinks, but my haughty 14-year-old brother instantly made it one.
“Nah, it’s totally a contest,” said Robert King, aforementioned brother and ninth grader, “you silly college students have nothing on me.”
Roxana and I rolled our eyes and began to dig into our sink.
After only a few minutes, I realized how insane we were to think we could finish a sink with the help of only one other person. Roxana and I began to give each other disparaging looks. However, we were miles ahead of my siblings, who at this point had reduced to groaning and doubling over.
Roxana and I refused to give up. We needed that bumper sticker. We needed the bragging rights.
After my siblings had given up, my mom and dad took them back to the hotel and left us at Angie’s to finish our sink. Roxana and I kept pulling though, eating as slowly as we could, as our stomachs grew more and more full.
“I feel so sick,” Roxana said. I found the whole situation to be quite humorous and just started laughing.
“No! Don’t laugh!” Roxana said, “Every time I laugh I just feel ice cream coming back up.”
This made me laugh harder and she began to laugh harder too. After we composed ourselves, we returned to the behemoth before us.
With each spoonful, the idea of giving up seemed more and more pleasant. We kept at it, though, knowing my mom would be back soon to pick us up.
Then we had an idea. My siblings’ sink sat across the table from us, almost empty. Roxana and I decided to dump our soupy remains into their sink. After all, we really wanted the bragging rights. When no one was looking, we lifted our sink and dumped it into the other, subsequently spilling ice cream all over the table, causing more laughter.
The waitress awarded us with our bumper sticker, and when my mom came back she congratulated us, while Roxana and I shared a guilty smile.
– wes.king33@aggiemail.usu.edu